


What Do You Believe?

by MrsRen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Head Boy/Head Girl, Hogwarts AU, No Voldemort, soulmate identifying marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:34:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24202159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsRen/pseuds/MrsRen
Summary: In the fall of her seventh year, the mark appears on her inner thigh, but Hermione's not one to believe in something as frivolous as soulmates. While she doesn't look for her soulmate, she never expects for him to find her.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Tom Riddle
Comments: 68
Kudos: 933
Collections: Tomione Smut Fest 2020





	What Do You Believe?

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [TomioneSmutFest20](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/TomioneSmutFest20) collection. 



> Written for the 2020 run of the tomione smut fest on AO3, hosted by weestarmeggie. My chosen prompt was soulmates. Thank you so much to Elle Morgan-Black who read this over and left me feedback! All mistakes are my own, but if there are any super embarrassing typos, please let me know!
> 
> Warnings/Information for this fic includes: No Voldemort AU, Hogwarts AU, rough sex, [possibly] bad BDSM etiquette, dirty talk.

**ooo**

"It won't be so bad," Ron said, but from the way his eyes diverted from her, she could tell he didn't really mean it. "I mean, you're both so…"

Harry recovered for him, and cleared his throat. "What Ron means to say is that the both of you are the top of our year."

Her lips flattened into a thin line.

"Riddle's the best in our year," Ron continued with a mouth full of food, waving his hand through the air as if that added anything to the conversation. "You're right under him too. I bet the two of you will manage to get more points than the assignment is even worth."

"Er," At the very least, Harry had the good nature to wince. "Maybe leave out the part where he's the top of the year, Ron. I think she's still a little raw over it."

Ron's encouragement of how she would pass Riddle by the end of the term didn't help either, considering he wasn't so sure about that himself, and quite frankly, neither was she.

She could appreciate a bright mind, but at every turn since entering the magical world, Tom Riddle had bested her at every turn. Most days, she could contain the frustration of it, even though the object of her ire so clearly realized what she didn't voice, and only served to smile at her with a curve to his mouth that didn't reach his eyes.

The final straw had been an arithmancy project.

_Partners._

"Thank you, Harry," she sniffed. "Riddle is an arrogant prat, and he's the last person I'd want to be partnered with. I don't know what Professor Vector was thinking."

"Probably that the two of you are-"

She didn't care. Honestly, Hermione had no reason to dislike him quite so immensely, but she thought the way witches fawned over him might have something to do with it. And he was rather...pretty, if she were forced to admit it, and he was quite brilliant. "He's-"

A soft chuckle came from behind her, turning her blood cold, and both of her friends offered sympathetic smiles that weren't very sympathetic at all. "He's right behind you." Riddle's voice was smooth, and his knee bumped against the part of the bench where she sat.

"You couldn't have told me?"

Ron continued to chew.

Harry mouthed _sorry_.

"Traitors." She muttered, and glanced over her shoulder.

The corner of Riddle's mouth lifted. Not a touch of his robes were out of place, nor the enamel pin fastened to them, and as he towered over her, he looked completely at ease. Not uncomfortable, like her. He probably knew that too.

She stopped bouncing her knee.

"I'd like to get started on our project, if you don't have other plans."

Hermione had, in fact, had other plans.

Plans that involved making use of the Hogsmeade weekend, drinking butterbeer with her two traitorous-but lovable-friends, and possibly taking Michael Corner up on his offer to meet at the Three Broomsticks.

"I planned to go to Hogsmeade, but it's fine." Hermione shrugged, ignoring the shallow cry of protest that came from Ron. "I'll go with you both next time. The sooner we complete this project, the better."

**ooo**

On the way to the library, they passed Lavender, and even if they didn't want to eavesdrop, they would have had to be deaf to miss it.

"It sounds like she's found her soulmate."

"You don't believe in that, do you?" Hermione shouldered her bag, moving ahead of him even though he tried to open the door for her. "The idea that there's someone made for you seems ridiculous."

As romantic as the notion was-and Hermione still thought there was so much about it that wasn't romantic-she didn't really believe that the mark on her body had anything to do with a soulmate.

It went like this: in the wizarding world, the day you turned eighteen, you were guaranteed a gift. Much as she would have liked to return the initials that had suddenly been imprinted on her inner, upper thigh, it couldn't be done.

She knew because she had checked.

Most of her peers hadn't yet received their identifying mark-she was older than most in her year-but at the end of September, she'd woken up to it, and she had never tried to figure it out.

It could be someone older than her.

Someone her age. It could even be someone that was her classmate.

"I believe it's interesting," he said as he took the seat across from her, and he looked mildly irritated to be led to the table that she normally used.

_Good_.

"Yes, I agree that it's rather _interesting_ how I had no choice in the matter. Suddenly, the initials of a stranger appear on my skin, and I'm meant to be grateful? Ridiculous." She had hoped that her scathing tone would scare him off the subject.

He only appeared even more intrigued, and Riddle didn't mirror her actions to pull his arithmancy book from the leather bag he carried. "Yours has appeared?"

In hindsight, she thought indulging his curiosity would be enough, and that he would leave it, but the idea backfired almost immediately. "I turned eighteen at the beginning of term." Parchment rustled as she sorted through her notes. "Have you?"

"Yes, my birthday was over the Christmas hols."

Nodding slightly, she didn't know why she said it. "Happy belated birthday then." There was a pause, and then, "We should get started."

"Where is your mark?"

She choked. "Pardon? That's none of your business."

Riddle didn't look the least bit ashamed. "I'm just wondering if it's in the same place as mine, if that's the-"

"No, you aren't." Hermione cut him off, and began to gather her things. "You would have learned everything you could the second you heard about soulmates, Riddle. Spare me the drivel. You absolutely know that they appear randomly."

He exhaled, a sound that was nearly sharp. "Granger."

Hermione stood, hauling the strap of her bag over her shoulder in the same motion. "I think I'll work on my end of the project separately, and let you know when I'm ready to compare notes."

There was no concrete reason for her reaction, but she hadn't told anyone else about the mark. Even Harry and Ron didn't know, but she theorized that Ron might have simply forgotten that she'd already turned seventeen. Or perhaps they just hadn't thought to ask.

But back to the situation at hand, Hermione knew there wasn't a need to leave the library in a huff, but she was comforted by the memory of the bewilderment on Riddle's face.

**ooo**

She really had meant to compare notes, but then there had been her duties as head girl. Patrolling had taken up an even larger chunk of her time when a prefect had caught the cold making rounds in the castle. A break-up between Ron and Parvati-even though it had been short lived-had taken up a bulk of her free time because even if he was a right prat sometimes, Ron was still one of her best friends.

Riddle had been busy too, it seemed.

She hadn't spoken to him beyond their combined duties as head boy and head girl since he'd been deliberately intrusive. They orbited one another, as they always did, in meetings arranged for the prefects, creating the schedule for the prefects, but nothing more.

Yet, every time she made her way back to Gryffindor tower, and climbed into the bed in the room that had become only her own as a perk for her title, Hermione couldn't sleep.

She'd stare at the ceiling for what seemed to be hours, sleep never willingly reaching up to claim her, because she couldn't shake the thought that something was wrong.

Divination was rubbish, and she didn't buy into any of its branches, but she could trust a gut feeling.

Probably.

And it told her that something was about to go terribly wrong.

**ooo**

Riddle met her in the library, and he didn't bother to curb his sneer. "We're going to be up all night."

"Don't act as if it's my fault alone." Hermione sank into her seat, and dragged her fingers through her hair. "You wouldn't meet me last weekend, or Tuesday night."

"You've dodged every attempt I've made to work on this." It was true, she supposed, so she would give him that. "I could forgive the fact that you needed to cover for your prefect, but Weasley's break-up isn't my problem."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Right, your problem was that you absolutely needed to make sure you didn't miss a quidditch match."

"I happen to support my house team, Granger. Perhaps you should try it."

She already wished she hadn't shown up. Professor Vector wouldn't give her full credit if she were to turn in only her part of the project, but it wouldn't be so bad of a mark that it would bring down her overall grade. It would almost- _almost_ -be worth it if it meant she wouldn't have to work with him.

For the most part, they worked in relative silence after snipping at one another until she asked, "Why did Madam Pince allow us to stay in here so late?"

While Hermione had no idea what the exact time was, she knew that curfew had already passed them by, and it was surely close to midnight if not past it already.

"I organized the library for her over the summer. The charms that typically do it malfunctioned, and it wasn't as though there was anything better to do with my time."

She paused as her hand stopped, her quill hovering just above the parchment and ink dribbled onto it. "You were here during the summer?"

"Yes." Riddle pressed his quill harder into the parchment, ink blooming before bleeding into lines, and she knew she'd struck a nerve. "Headmaster Dumbledore granted my request to be allowed to remain here during the holidays."

It wasn't her business to know that home for him had been an orphanage, but she did know.

If she stopped to think about it, Hermione realized she knew quite a bit about Tom Riddle while simultaneously knowing nothing at all.

"That was kind of him."

"Yes, well, it would have been _kind_ of him if he'd granted the request when I made it as a first year."

Hermione laid her quill down. "There wouldn't have been adult supervision."

He laughed, and she thought it was the most miserable sound she'd ever heard. "I realize you have no idea what living in an orphanage is like, but stop to imagine it for a second." Dark eyes narrowed on her, and he scowled. "They consider three meals a day to be ample care. They're abusive, Granger, and my being magical-"

Her heart clenched.

"It didn't help matters."

He didn't say anything else, but he didn't have to.

It took a hard swallow to clear her throat, and Hermione laid her hand over his. She wasn't sure why she'd done it, of course, only that he flinched slightly when she did. "He should have let you stay every summer." Hermione whispered.

After a few moments that seemed to stretch on for longer than they should have, he pulled his hand away.

Riddle reached up and loosened his tie with nimble fingers, pulling it away from his neck with a heavy sigh. "We'll need to be careful when we go back to our dorms, of course. Madam Pince may have let us use the library late, but I doubt Filch will be so understanding."

She didn't mean to see.

She didn't even mean to look at him, but she was a stupid girl, and his fingers were distracting.

_What a ridiculous thing to be distracted by._

Luckily he failed to notice her watching him as he rid himself of his tie, but he heard the weak breath that pushed through her teeth when his collar was pulled to the side by mistake.

_HJG._

It looked exactly like hers. Faint white lines that almost resembled a scar. She wondered if he'd tried to cover it.

Tom Riddle didn't strike her as the type of man that would leave it visible. Not that it normally was, she supposed.

_HJG_ could be someone else. She wasn't the only witch in the world with those initials, but that didn't matter when the letters printed on her skin were what they were.

She didn't know his middle name, but Hermione suspected it began with an _M._

"I have to go," Hermione blurted. "I'm sorry-I-"

When she looked back, Hermione would remember vividly that this might have been the only time she'd seen such a genuine reaction from him.

His eyes shot open, and his fingers closed around his tie, still so distracting. "Are you alright?"

She didn't answer, and she didn't look back as she fled the library, her belongings barely in her grip.

**ooo**

_If you found your soulmate, what would you do?_

The unwelcome question had played on a loop for the past day, and no matter what she did, Hermione could not escape it. All she truly did was ask more questions, which left her in a lurch where she had no idea which way was up or down.

_What if you didn't truly believe in soulmates?_

_What if you did, though?_

It was the single most jarring thought of all, that she could change her mind. If she wanted to. It might have helped if she could have discussed it with anyone, but who was there?

Ron and Harry, much as she loved them, had the combined emotional range of a tablespoon. That, and they couldn't keep a secret.

The very next night, fate did not side with her.

He joined her at the edge of the corridor, and Hermione didn't meet his eyes while fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve.

"What are you doing here?"

"Corner had an unfortunate incident on the quidditch pitch today."

Hermione sighed. "I see."

With their footsteps as the only sound against ancient cobblestone, Hermione didn't say anything. It wasn't outside of the norm for her to remain quiet around him anyway, but now that she recognized it, there was a familiarity between them.

What the fuck was she meant to do with that?

In the end, he was the one who filled the silence once they reached the Astronomy tower. "Why don't you believe in soulmates?"

Immediately, she wished he hadn't spoken at all. "I have my doubts." She gripped the railing, and exhaled. "I don't think it's a decision that can be made for me."

He took a step forward, and in the lowest pit of her stomach, Hermione could see that he already knew.

"Do you believe in soulmates?" Up until then, Hermione hadn't realized how much it terrified her to hear the answer.

What did it matter? She didn't think it was real.

"I believe in what I can see." He rasped, and then his fingers curled around the nape of her neck, and her mind quieted. "I'd had my theories that it was you. Not that it would have mattered since I've watched you for years, and I would have continued to do so." Warmth bloomed under his fingers, held just against her skin, and her lips parted. "Of course, you'd already decided that you abhorred me at that point."

She breathed in shallowly. "You're a bit of a prick, honestly."

"What is your middle name?"

"Jean. Yours?"

"Marvolo."

There it was, all the proof she could have needed, and she couldn't breathe.

She nearly asked where they were meant to go from here, but what would it have mattered? "So, it is you then," Hermione breathed.

When she thought Riddle was going to reply, that he might have said something, his lips crashed down on hers, and all she managed was a squeak.

A _squeak._

Digging her fingers into his robes-to shove him away, she swore-Hermione allowed herself to be backed up to where the chilled railing bit into her back. Long fingers caressed her face, tucking strands of hair behind her ears as his tongue slid against hers, and she just-

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, not that her fingers obeyed when she thought to shove him off of her anyway, and he took the opportunity to tilt his head to the side just so, and he bit her lower lip.

She thought he might have made it bleed.

Barely, she heard herself say that, and there was a dark look that slid across his face before he kissed her again.

"Merlin, you _like_ that?" He breathed, fingers trailing down her sides.

"If I do?"

He gripped her waist, and picked her up without another thought, balancing her on the railing, and Hermione was suddenly aware of the wide open space behind her.

Panic bubbled up, and his fingers dug into her skin so roughly that it might bruise.

He'd probably like that too. She knew she did.

"I won't let you fall." His breath trickled across her neck.

She pulled at the collar of his oxford, and there were her initials, and a new wave of dizziness washed over her. "You can't expect me to believe that."

Riddle's smile struck her silent as she ran her finger over the mark. "You're my soulmate. Of course I wouldn't let you fall."

_-soulmate soulmate soulmate soulmate-_

In the morning, she wouldn't be sure why she'd done it, but Hermione dipped her head down, locked her legs around his waist, and swiped her tongue over the part of him that belonged to her.

The part of him that could never belong to anyone else.

**ooo**

He met her in the library.

It wasn't an arranged meeting. Their partnership for Arithmancy was over, and they had a perfect grade to show for it. She wasn't due to sit down with him until the end of the week to make the next month's prefect schedule.

Still, she'd risen from her seat in the Great Hall, looked at him from across the room while no one had seen, and slipped out. Anyone else would think she had something to do, and no one would question him.

It wasn't planned, and she should have left, but she was curious.

He sneaked up on her, slipped an arm around her waist before tugging her backward. He pressed his lips to her neck, nipping and sucking, and if she were ever asked, Hermione would never admit that she'd pushed back into him.

With the library empty, she let him push her against the shelves, allowed him to unbutton her shirt and push her robes aside.

Watching him smile while he ran his hands up her thighs felt like some sort of prize.

It felt like the sort of thing you weren't meant to chase, the thing that got you burned, and yet, she let her nails dig into his shoulders while he rubbed her through her knickers.

His breath was hot in her ear as he murmured, "Stay quiet for me," and pushed her knickers to the side. Two fingers slid into her, his thumb firm on her clit as he rubbed in slow circles. "Eventually, I'll make you scream, but not right now."

The whimper that slipped away from her didn't even sound like her.

"Not where anyone can see you spread open for me." He kissed her again, thumb swiping roughly over her, and her hips bucked forward. "I've imagined you laid across that table," he told her. "Your legs spread, your skirt pulled up while I fuck you."

She met his gaze, her voice lodged in her throat, and her thighs closed on his hand. "Don't be such a fucking tease."

He fingered her against that bookshelf as the rest of the school came to life, students pouring out from the Great Hall on their way to class, and whispered all the filthy things-of which there were plenty-in her ear.

"Come for me, Hermione. Let me feel your pussy tighten on my fingers."

He held her up when she did, and silenced the loud cry that tumbled free by kissing her until her lips were bruised. What caught her most of all, on top of the way he righted her knickers, was what he said.

"Do you believe in soulmates now?"

As if to give her time to ponder, Tom slid his fingers into her mouth, and watched her suck them clean while tasting herself on them.

"I don't think so," Hermione finally said. "I believe in what I can see."

He didn't ask her what that was, but she had a feeling he knew, and it was that she couldn't stay away from him.

Not that she tried very hard.

**ooo**

If asked, Hermione couldn't say what they were. Not quite a couple, certainly not friends, but was there anything in between? As heads, they had always been meant to patrol together, and it didn't go unnoticed when she relented over that fact. Even Ron had noticed it.

"I thought you didn't like him?"

"I don't." _Lie_. "We've gotten along better since our project." It was true, but they rarely talked. Who was to say if they truly got along better? All she knew was that more frequently than not, she ended up pressed against him in darkened alcoves after patrols.

She showed him the Room of Hidden Things, and watched his eyes widen as the door appeared, His hand was warm in hers when she pulled him inside. "It can be anything you want," she explained, looking around. At the sight of the large bed in the middle of the room, she arched an eyebrow. "You wanted a bed? That's presumptuous of you."

There was something that always drew her attention, and it was how generous he was in these moments. Tom couldn't be defined as such in any other situation, but here, _now_ , he unzipped her skirt, and pulled her knickers down her legs before kissing a path from her ankle to the apex of her thighs.

"I've wanted to do this since that day in the library," he suckled the soft skin, leaving a mark that no one would see.

"Broom cupboards are only good for so much." Hermione gripped his hair, and nudged him forward, grinning when she heard his mumble. But then he stopped and she'd just opened her mouth when he ran a finger over his initials on her inner thigh. "Oh, I forgot you hadn't seen it."

Tom traced it with his tongue before licking a strip up her cunt, gripping her thighs with heavy hands while the light overhead glinted against the ring on his finger.

She came apart under his mouth while his fingers were buried inside her, with a scream while he watched her.

Her legs still shaky in the aftermath of it, Hermione let him have her as he wanted. He guided her off the bed, fingers looped through her curls while he put her on her knees and slid his cock into her mouth.

There would be marks on the backs of his thighs where she'd held on as he fucked her mouth.

He told her she was so pretty with his cock down her throat, with her eyes watering, and her cunt dripping. Tom reached for his wand, and it sailed into his waiting hand. "Do you trust me?"

It felt like a dangerous sort of question, but she nodded as well as she could.

" _Legillimency."_

He heard everything, every fragment of a thought that went through her mind, and she thought she might be able to come from that alone.

From the voice that was rough in her head, the one that told her he liked her on her knees.

She took him farther, gagging, and whimpered when _you're so pretty when you cry, when you choke_ filled her ears.

Tom filled her mouth, and she watched him when she swallowed, her tongue darting out to catch a drop that coated her lips.

He took her to the bed again, but oddly, he didn't bury himself inside of her.

It was no matter since Hermione straddled his waist, running her fingers through his hair while she sunk down on him. There might be bruises on her hips in the morning from where he gripped her so tightly as she moved against him.

He groaned her name when he lifted his hips to meet her, setting a lazy pace, his fingers moving over her clit while she shuddered.

" _Please, please, oh, God."_ Hermione kissed him in the middle of it, smirking when he cupped her jaw and tightened an arm around her middle. "I don't want to leave this room at all."

His eyes were dark when he muttered, "We're absolutely not leaving tonight."

**ooo**

Michael Corner asked her to Hogsmeade at the end of March. Of course, he hadn't realized that she wasn't playing hard to get, and that she really _wasn't_ interested, but it was still his fault for not taking no for an answer.

Unfortunately, it had happened in front of Tom.

Tom Riddle, who as she had expected, had a vicious jealous streak. She'd not gotten a full word out before he slipped an arm around her waist and yanked her into him, a cold look about him, his jaw clenched.

"Oh," Michael said. "Sorry, I didn't realize that the two of you were…"

"We are." Riddle snapped, and pulled her from the Great Hall without another word.

The only reason she'd let him drag her to the seventh floor was for the privacy of what would absolutely be a fight. Only once inside did she rip away from him. "You're acting like a child."

"You should have told him you were with someone." He ground out, and his fists curled at his sides.

That wasn't what she'd been expecting. "Am I?"

They'd been here before, in this room with him backing her to the wall, but it had never been quite like this. Never with his eyes as dark as they were, or his hands as rough as they were. "Aren't you?"

Her back met the wall, the curve of her spine hard against it as he towered over her. "We've never had the discussion, Riddle."

"Oh, am I back to being _Riddle_ again?" He wedged a knee between her thighs. "Perhaps I only thought it was clear, but you're mine. You've been _mine_."

Hermione lifted her chin. "Since when? Since old magic put my initials on your body and you pretended that you would have chosen me?"

He ripped her skirt, tore it down her thighs and did the same to her knickers. "I told you I had watched you long before that."

In truth, she'd never quite believed him.

When he slanted his lips over hers, she thought to shove him away, but pulled him closer instead. There was the sound of his zipper, the feel of his cock against her cunt, and then the way he ripped her shirt open with a clenched jaw.

"I _do_ have to return to the common room."

Tom slid into her in one thrust, and she cried out, nails digging into his shoulders, raking down his back as she sucked in a breath. There was a muted curse against her neck, and he slid into her again, their hip moving against one another. "Fuck-" He fucked her, just like that, so roughly that she'd be sore. Her hips would ache, she'd feel him for the rest of the day and- "You like this, don't you? You love being fucked like this."

"Tom!" She cried out as one hand dropped between them, fingers rubbing her clit quick, and rough, just enough to bring her right to the edge before he stopped. "You're such a _bastard_."

He smirked, tilting his hips, and closed his lips around her nipple.

"Y-es," her back arched. "I love it. Just _don't_ stop."

He promised he'd fuck her until it would never be enough with anyone else. That he'd fill her cunt, and know it was dripping down her thighs when they left the room.

She'd whispered, " _Harder,"_ without meaning to, and he pulled his tie from around his neck.

"Trust me?"

Hermione liked his hand around her throat, maybe even liked it too much, but she sucked in a breath when he looped his tie around her throat.

"Say red and I'll stop." He waited for her to nod. It was tight around her throat instantly, the green silk pulled taut over his knuckles, and he drove into her. "Come on my cock." He told her, fingers moving over her clit, and she thought it was a miracle that he was still able to keep her pinned to the wall with his hips against hers.

Her moans were ragged, broken.

She imagined that he liked them that way.

"I'm so close," Hermione mewled, twisting against him, and she crushed her lips to his while she could barely breathe and his fingers were on her clit, and his cock was slamming into her. "Tom, I'm so close."

He growled her name in her ear, the tie loosening, and she reached the peak before falling as he spilled inside of her. "Fucking hell," Tom pulled her away from the wall, and carried her to the same bed that always appeared. His breath came in shallow pants, and he ran his fingers over her throat.

"I'm fine."

Still, Tom appeared to be conflicted.

Hermione pulled him down beside her, burying her face in the crook of his neck, her tongue sliding against her initials, and she could taste the saltiness of sweat. "Perhaps you should get jealous more often."

Barking a loud laugh, he glanced down at her. "Do you really believe so?"

"As long as you don't do that in public…" She shrugged. "Tom, do you believe in soulmates?"

He froze.

"You've always asked me, but I've never properly asked you."

It took so long for him to say anything that she thought the answer might never come, but moments later as he trailed his fingers across her shoulders, he said, "I think that I believe in you."

"That's a good answer. Did you practice that?"

He snorted.

She looked to the ceiling, her breaths beginning to even out, and Hermione stepped off the ledge. "I think anything is possible. Maybe soulmates are…" she paused. "Maybe it's not always correct, but magic must get it right sometimes."

The corner of Tom's mouth twitched. The pads of his fingers brushed the mark on her thigh. "You're right, of course." It earned a smile from her, but then he opened his mouth and ruined it. "I'm still going to beat you for top marks," at her squawk of indignation, he added, "soulmate."

**ooo**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to weestarmeggie for hosting another year of this fest!
> 
> A couple of days before this fest was announced again, I had an idea for a time travel/soulmates AU, so I picked the prompt in order to see if I liked writing the trope at all. Well, I do. So hopefully something will come of that, but I'm pretty gun shy when it comes to writing our OTP. I hope you enjoyed and be sure to check out the other stories in the collection! They're all fantastic.


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